By Amanda Egan
I’m Lottie Truman and this is often my story.
My existence was once easily tickety-boo until eventually a neighbour’s prediction looked as if it would coincide with my good fortune working out.
Join me at the course i wanted to take to get me to the place i'm now.
But don’t pass judgement on me.
Because occasionally you should make a couple of diversions to permit destiny to push you within the correct path.
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Additional info for Lottie's Luck
A tremor in her answer betrayed her excitement. She buried her hands deeper into her white fox muff, the one he’d bought her for her birthday. ” “No, not yet. ” she asked softly, her gaze slipping to his coat pocket. ” Reluctantly he dug around in his coat pocket, looking for the small piece of parchment. “I hope you find my poor effort acceptable. ” She held out her hand, the gesture oddly reminding him of a wife demanding her husband’s gambling winnings. Cursing Lord Byron for starting this poetry craze with his Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, he drew the parchment from his pocket and placed it in her palm.
The carriage was moving too fast. In seconds it would become a coffin. Thinking of the two little girls trapped within its leather squabs, he grabbed the reins along with the driver and helped him pull. He was too late. Just as the carriage hurtled over the edge of the cliff, Phineas threw himself off the driver’s bench. He had a sensation of sailing through the air. When he hit the ground, it was as though God himself had sent a giant hand into his midsection, driving the air from his lungs, stunning him with one mighty blow.
She estimated his age at well past fifty. His garb, she realized, was very rich, and much finer than his companion’s. An olive-colored coat of heavy wool cloth, with a deep collar and several shoulder capes, wreathed his thin form. His waistcoat was again of wool and his neck cloth was loosely tied. Highly polished, tasseled boots drew her eye away from his sticklike legs, encased in fawn-colored breeches. Still, his eyes bothered her the most. Although they were very kind, she thought she saw a strange sort of hunger hidden behind his gaze.
Lottie's Luck by Amanda Egan